Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - I used to work as a mall Santa, but one boy’s Christmas list made me quit...

Episode Date: January 14, 2021

Author: WendigoRoar Link to story: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/khufj3/i_used_to_work_as_a_mall_santa_but_one_boys/ Help support the Dr. NoSleep podcast here: https://www.patreon.com/join/drnosleep Dr. NoSleep Animations: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep Dr. NoSleep Merchandise: teespring.com/stores/dr-nosleep-merch #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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From, binge all episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus. It was the third time that day, when I felt an unnatural warmth begin where the child was sitting on my leg. I'd grown past being disgusted by it. As I felt the first drops begin to roll down my leg, I lifted the boy under the armpits and set him on his feet next to my chair. He started crying, and the piece of paper he was gripping tightly in his little fist fell from his hand. Hey, little man, it's okay, I said. It happens. Let's go get to your mom so you can get cleaned up. I looked up and saw a pretty blonde woman with arms full of shopping bags. She was already hurrying over, alerted either by the tears or the enormous wet spot on her son's pants.

I'm his mom, she said through rapid breaths. Hi, ma'am, I said as she walked up. It seems like we've had a bit of an accident. The mom's face flushed, clearly a bit embarrassed. Oh, I'm so sorry. This has never happened before, she said. It's really okay. part of the job, I said chuckling. The little dude continued to ball his eyes out. I gave him my very

best Santa head pat and told him again that it was okay. Please, Santa, you have to let us get you cleaned up, the mom said. Really, it's okay. I've got spare pants in the mall supply closet, and I can wash down real quick in there too, I told her. Can I at least pay you for the cleaning costs? I quickly glanced down at her hand and saw no rings. The mall already handles all of that. But, But maybe you would let me buy you a drink sometime, I asked. I thought maybe I could turn this pea situation into something nice after all. The mom smiled. That would be lovely, she said.

But you better not tell Mrs. Claus. Oh, don't worry. There's no Mrs. Claus, I said, laughing. She grabbed a slip of scrap paper and a pen from her purse and scribbled down her phone number. My name's Molly, by the way, she said. Give me a call when you're finished here, Santa. she grinned and walked off. I was thrilled.

I ended up getting washed up, changed, and back out to work in just about 15 minutes. The rest of the day was pretty low-key, no more urine incidents. At the end of the day, I started helping tear down some of the parts of the North Pole scene that I sit in.

While cleaning up, I noticed a crumpled up piece of paper. I remembered that Molly's boy had dropped his list when he came up to me. I absent-mindedly shoved it into my pocket to give to her when we meet up again. After finishing packing up and getting changed, I jumped in my car and raced home. I wanted to at least take a shower and get myself cleaned up to prove to her that I wasn't just some loser in a urine-soaked Santa costume.

After arriving at my apartment, I quickly pulled out Molly's note with her phone number on it. Crumpled together, along with Molly's note, was her son's Christmas list. I placed them both on my kitchen counter and began dialing Molly's number. As the phone rang, I noticed some bright colors on the crumpled list as Santa. The little guy must have drawn a picture for the jolly, red-suited fellow. I pulled it closer to me and was about to take a look when I heard the line connect. Hello? I heard Molly ask. Hi, I said cheerfully, absently pushing aside the drawing.

It's Santa. Molly laughed. I've been looking forward to your call, she said. I'm glad to hear it, I said. Would you be up for having that drink tonight? Of course, she replied, a smile in her tone. She gave me the address of a favorite pub near her place. I promised to grab a quick shower and then text her when I was on my way. Oh, and Santa?

She said right before I hung up. Why don't you bring that Santa suit for later? You never know. I just might end up on your naughty list. She giggled, then hung up. So you can be sure I packed the Santa outfit. I took a quick shower with multiple dowsings of soap to get rid of any scent of pee from me. I got rinsed off and dressed in a hurry.

I snagged my cell phone and Molly's son's list from the counter as I had. headed out the door. On the elevator right down to the parking area, I shot Molly a quick text telling her I was on my way. I reached down in my pocket and pulled out the little man's Christmas list. I thought maybe I could stop by Walmart and get him some of his presents. Opening it up, I saw a nightmare etched in crayon across the page. Within the childish scratchings, I could make out a red-suited man with a thick white beard lying strapped to a bed, kneeling above him, a woman with blonde hair and no clothes was holding a thin gray object in the air. A dark red streak protruded from the red-suited man's neck. The boy had drawn his mother, murdering a man dressed as Santa

mid-sexcapade. The elevator reached the ground floor, and I stood still in shock for so long that the doors opened and then reclosed, assuming I had gotten out. I kept staring at the drawing, and I noticed a shape under the bed. It looked like a small boy, huddled, hands over his ears. hiding from the massacre. I gasped and took an involuntary step back, almost tripping over the bag containing my Santa suit. The elevator started moving again, startling me. I yelled. When the doors open, I was at my floor again. I rushed out, bumping into my neighbor who said something pissy to me as they headed into the elevator. I opened my door, rushed in and slammed it behind me, throwing the dead bolt closed. As the shock and adrenaline worked its way through me,

my veins. I fell back against the door, slowly sliding down it until I sat on the floor. Eventually, I broke down and cried, rasping the drawing. The warning the boy had given me tightly in my hand, just like he had this morning. And that was when my phone started ringing. It was Molly. I barricaded the front door to the cheerful ringtone as it rang over and over and over. Lazagne sur-gillet, Pucance-Moyerned 15 minutes.

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